By My Shoulder
by spyder-m
Summary: Jaune twists his ankle while training with Pyrrha and needs to be taken to the infirmary. It's a good thing his partner is there to pick him up when he's down.


By My Shoulder

Under Pyrrha's tutelage, Jaune was steadily growing into a capable, more confident fighter.

Having spent the past few months trapped in his own head, any hope of making progress had always hindered by the doubts, the small, demeaning voices that plagued his thoughts.

The beatings he would endure during sparring class did not compare to the mental berating he would subject himself to afterward.

It was refreshing a change to hear Pyrrha's patient encouragement, the praise she would give him for even the slightest improvement.

It was thanks to her, that his efforts didn't feel as futile.

Still, Jaune knew he had a long way to go before he could even approach his friends, his teammates, and there was one hurdle, in particular, he was still struggling to overcome.

His clumsiness.

By learning the correct stances and distributing his weight properly, his balance was improving and he could put more power and precision into his strikes.

Yet, in times of danger, his body would still react faster than he could think; recall the proper stance, or way to parry an attack. Any learnt technique was overrided by his nerves, his instinct to survive.

This proved especially difficult when Pyrrha proposed that they finish up their practice session with a spar.

Though Jaune suspected Pyrrha would not be putting all she had into this fight, she was still not an opponent he wanted to take lightly.

He had seen the former three-time Mistral Champion in action, fighting alongside her as she effortlessly picked apart Grimm or other Hunters. The mere thought of being on the other side of that onslaught was unnerving.

Still, Jaune couldn't back away from the challenge.

For Pyrrha to offer to spar him; even semi-seriously; was perhaps the highest compliment he could receive.

It spoke of the potential she saw in him and how she felt he was progressing. After all she had done to help him, Jaune needed to take this seriously. He didn't want to dissapoint her.

Besides, if he couldn't muster the courage to make it through a friendly spar, where would he ever find the gal to risk his life for the sake of others?

Though, as Pyrrha soared above him, Milo lifted high over her head, he could feel his earlier rush of determination quickly dissipating.

Jaune swallowed, trying to keep his breath steady as his heart pounded heavily against his ribcage. It's okay, he thought. We've had gone through this all before. All he needed was to bend his knees and raise his shield.

Time seemed to slow as Jaune lifted his arm, captivated by Pyrrha's fierce expression zeroing in on him; the crimson trail of her hair flickering behind her as she sailed gracefully through the air.

The image rattled him, that one coherent thought he had managed to grasp, slipping from his mind.

The distraction, though fleeting, was enough for Jaune to have not properly braced himself against Pyrrha's attack; the impact of Milo clattering against his shield sending him stumbling back off balance.

Abruptly trying to brace himself, Jaune took the entire weight of his body on his right ankle, feeling it awkwardly give way under the pressure. A sharp burn worked its way up Jaune's foot, and he exhaled through the gaps in his teeth. His breath carried in a sharp, pained hiss, one that did not go unnoticed by Pyrrha.

"Jaune!" She exclaimed, turning to the prone form of her partner. Immediately, she set Milo down and stooped by his side. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Jaune groaned, gingerly sitting up.

Instinctively, he reached to pull off his boot, wanting to examine the extent of the injury.

His foot throbbed painfully at the fleeting contact and Jaune's hand ripped away with a flinch.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha repeated, concern rising in her voice. "I'm sorry! I should have hit so hard on that last blow. You were just doing so well."

"Hey, it's not like it was your fault," Jaune muttered bitterly, his old habit of chastising himself returning full-force.

It was bad enough that he hadn't followed Pyrrha's teaching properly and had hurt himself, but now she was feeling guilty over his careless mistake. Gods, even just practicing he couldn't do anything right. He really was pathetic.

Pyrrha frowned at the sudden shift in Jaune's demeanour. She had seen this from him before, back when he had been spending all his time with Cardin, keeping his team at a distance.

She couldn't allow Jaune to sink to such a funk again, especially after the progress he had been making.

Laying her hand gentle on his shoulder, she offered a comforting smile.

"Your aura should be more than strong enough to heal that injury." She reassured. "Once it replenishes, I'm sure you'll be fine. Still, I think we should stop by the infirmary. Just to be safe."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Jaune nodded, moving to stand but wincing at the weight pressuring his ankle.

"Oh." Pyrrha exclaimed. "I didn't realise your injury was that bad. Here, let me..."

Pyrrha quickly slipped Jaune's arm over her shoulder, supporting his weight, ensuring his body didn't give out again.

Thinking Pyrrha was offering to help him walk the rest of the way to Infirmary, Jaune turned for the stairwell. Pyrrha's grip, however, remained firm, holding him in place. Puzzled, Jaune glanced over, his eyebrow lifting as her left arm slunk around the back of his knees.

Before he could find his voice, Jaune; prone to motion sickness; felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably as he was promptly and abruptly lifted from the ground, and into Pyrrha's arms.

The urge to dry heave was tempered by a familiar scent flooding his nostrils, as his head was cushioned against her chest plate.

"P- Pyrrha?!" Jaune sputtered, his initial confusion dissipating. "What are you doing?!"

"Hmm? What does it look like?" she answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Your ankle clearly can't support your weight. I'm going to have to carry you."

At another point, Jaune might have stubbornly refused Pyrrha's help; embarrassed by his shortcomings, his pride bruised for having to rely on someone else. He would have thought that this moment of weakness sullied his image and standing as a team leader.

(Though, with how securely Pyrrha's arms surrounded him, he couldn't imagine his protests would have accomplished much.)

Right now, however, while he was still frustrated at his carelessness, he found the haze engulfing him... pleasant; a bright, reassuring presence he had come to link inherently with Pyrrha.

It was comforting to know that he could depend not just on her, but all of his teammates, his friends. That the daunting task of training to becoming a Huntsman, the family legacy he sought to uphold, didn't seem quite as heavy a burden with them at his side.

"Oh. A- alright then," Jaune stammered. "L- lead the way, I guess."

As Pyrrha moved towards the exit, he was conscious of how easily she had taken him into her arms. How she was carrying him effortlessly, showing little signs of fatigue from the training session they had just finished, and confident that she could keep him upright the entire way.

It shouldn't have surprised him.

Even in Beacon, a school trained warriors, she was taller and stronger than most other girls.

As her teammate, he practiced with her regularly, getting knocked back by hits he knew weren't using her entire strength.

Unlike Yang's semblance that enhanced her physical capabilities, or the speed that propelled Ruby forward, Pyrrha seemed to draw power largely from her strong physique.

The sleeveless corset she wore exposed her muscular arms; the sweat coating her skin, highlighting how they tensed and relaxed with each strike she parried.

He'd watched her practically powerbomb Cardin in Professor Goodwitch's sparring class not that long ago. While Jaune was still wearing his armour and had an extra inch of height on Pyrrha, he was clearly much lighter than CRDL's leader.

Still, it was another thing to feel her strength, firsthand; feeling the muscles in her arms flexing from the exertion of lifting him.

Jaune flushed as he became acutely aware of just how strong his partner's arms were, as she kept him securely braced against her chest; doing her best not to bump him around and exasperate the injury.

The care in her gentle touch as she carried, showed the obvious control she exuded over it. Pyrrha glanced down with a gentle smile, warm green eyes engulfing.

"Are you alright, Jaune?"

"Y- yeah..."

"Don't feel too bad. I mean what I said earlier. You were really keeping up."

"Oh, come on. Like I'd believe that." Jaune scoffed, an easy, joking tone that was much more familiar.

Though from the way his cheeks coloured, Pyrrha suspected his dismissal had only been half-hearted; that her words of praise had actually touched him.

Already the pattern of resentment he had already been slipping back into was lifting, the pain of the failure weighing upon him less heavily.

With Pyrrha by his side, those feelings of helplessness, the sense that he couldn't accomplish anything were easily quashed. For, he was reassured that as often as he fell, Pyrrha always would be there to pick him up.

Turning his head, Jaune tucked himself closer against the warmth of her chest.

Honestly, there was probably no safer place for him to be.


End file.
